


evermore

by illiterate



Category: Colby Brock - Fandom, Sam and Colby, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, trap house - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Forbidden Love, Forbidden Romance, Love, Mutual Pining, Romance, cross-posted to Tumblr, violence toward women
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:33:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29098089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illiterate/pseuds/illiterate
Summary: In order to ascend to the throne, Prince Cole needs to find a bride this social season. But that’s far easier said than done.
Relationships: Colby Brock/YN, Colby Brock/reader, Jake Webber/Tara Yummy, Jake Webber/Tarayummy, Reggie Webber/Cassie Martin, Sam Golbach/Kat Stuart, Sam Golbach/Katrina Stuart
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter One: The Presentation

A lady’s debut was something to be taken with the utmost seriousness. One wrong move, one misplaced hair, one thread showing, and she could be relegated to marrying the lowest of the low—or _worse_ , she would have no suitors at all. And an unwedded lady in this society? Well, some would say that’s a fate worse than death. 

And perhaps that’s why you were as stressed as you were. You’d been raised in this society. You knew the rules. You knew the etiquette. You could practically recite every single step that needed to be taken on this absolutely horrendous day forwards, backwards, and upside-down. But still, anything was possible. What if you tripped over your dress? Or what if you didn’t bow far enough? What if the Queen was in a sour mood and decided to frown at you—or _worse_ , grimace—just for fun? Sure, your family had long been favored by the Crown but the thing about being a favorite is the fickleness of it all.

Anything could happen. And a single misstep could cement your family’s future, your legacy, for centuries. 

You leaned over your vanity, sucking in a breath, as your maid, Eliza, tied up your corset. While your corsets typically fit you perfectly, your mother was adamant that they should be taken in a little more for your presentation to ensure you looked as appealing as possible. But, _God_ , did beauty have to be pain? 

“Corset’s tied, ma’am,” Eliza said.

You let out the breath you were holding and stood up straight, turning to look in your ornate mirror. You frowned, muttering under your breath that you looked practically the same as before. 

“Now, don’t be frowning, ma’am,” Eliza said. “You mustn’t have any wrinkles before you make your debut.” 

“You may as well be my mother, Eliza,” you said. “But, very well. Is my dress ready?” 

As you spoke, your mother came scurrying into the room, her own maid Natalia carrying the white dress you were expected to wear. 

“Xepher and Devyn just finished the alterations!” your mother said as Natalia and Eliza helped you into the dress. 

As they buttoned it up in the back, you continued to admire yourself in the mirror. Devyn and Xepher had outdone themselves. Truly the best modistes in all of Liberdon. The white dress, adorned with golden accents on the top around the sleeves and neckline, fit perfectly. And perhaps, with the tightened corset, it looked even better than you could have imagined. 

You moved your gaze from your dress, and made eye contact with your mother in the mirror. And though she was several feet away, you were sure that you could see the tears welling up in her mother. 

“Oh, Mother, if I’m not allowed to so much as frown, you aren’t allowed to cry!” you chided with a laugh.

She laughed, too, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. “You’ll have to forgive me, my dear. I’ve just been dreaming of this day for so long, and now for it to finally be here…”

Natalia and Eliza finished buttoning the dress, so you turned and crossed the room. You embraced your mother, and said, “I know. I’m so…excited. But, I must admit I’m terrified, too.” 

“And why is that?” your mother said. “We’ve been preparing for this day your entire life.” 

“That’s exactly why I’m terrified, Mother. We’ve been preparing for this day since I could walk, but I’m scared that all of these years of preparation will be nothing. What if I trip? What if I mess up? What if the Queen just doesn’t think I’m good enough?”

Your mother took you by the arm and led you to the chaise lounge at the end of your bed. You sat down and she sat beside you, holding your hand in hers. She gave you a kind smile and said, “My dear, I was scared for my debut, too. There are so many unknowns in the world, but you mustn’t dwell on them. Focusing on them will only increase the odds that something horrible will happen.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” you admitted. 

Your mother sighed. “No, I suppose it doesn’t. But, at the very least, please try to hold it together until the day is over. At least until after we leave the palace. The only way to ensure you marry well is to come in strong, and you can’t do that at if you’re in a panic.”

Slowly, you nodded and rose to your feet once more so that the maids can finish ensuring you looked your absolute best for the Queen.

* * *

The Queen’s Palace was a marvel to anyone who’s had the pleasure to see it. When the King was still alive and the Queen entertained company more frequently, foreign dignitaries from all over the globe would come to admire the unique architecture, comment about the one-of-a-kind art pieces, and dine off the world-class china. And it was the Queen’s Palace that all young ladies in high society would make their debut. 

Mothers and daughters filled the hall before the Queen’s throne room. It was so quiet a pin could drop. No one dared to speak, fearing that the Queen would hear and react poorly as a result. So, no one said a word. But the anxiety in the air was undeniable. 

You watched with bated breath as mothers and daughters entered the throne room, one group at a time. And every time one left, your heart broke to see the saddened faces and the not-so-well-hidden tears of those who the Queen hadn’t reacted warmly to. Some were young ladies you knew to be going through their third or fourth social season, still unwed, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for them. Their likelihood of finding happy marriages now had long-since diminished. But, you felt a surge of hope every time a group returned not looking totally downtrodden. Perhaps there was hope for you yet. 

Slowly, you and your mother made your way through the line. You now stood behind the doors, and were about to make your long-awaited debut. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you struggled to maintain steady breathing. You did your best to take deep breaths, reminding yourself that you were only allowed to faint when you had returned to the safety of your family carriage. 

Now was not the time to be falling victim to panic. 

From the other side of the double doors, you heard the announcement: “Miss Y/N Covington, presented by her mother the Dowager Viscountess Covington.”

The doors opened. You took a deep breath, forcing a small smile onto your face. You looked into the inside of the throne room, the Queen seated in her throne only a few yards away. The respected families in the room turned, _ooh_ -ing and _ahh_ -ing as you were revealed. You took a step, followed by another and then another. You kept your head held high, and kept your gaze forward on the Queen.

Your mother followed a step behind you, as she should. All your focus was on maintaining the steady pace you had set for yourself, trying to ignore the way the Queen leaned over to her secretary and how he whispered something to her. And you especially tried to ignore the look from your older brother, Elias, knowing that he also was expecting the absolute best from you and even one disapproving look from him could cause you to ruin everything you worked so hard to perfect. 

When you were only a yard away from the throne, you stopped. Then, you grabbed at your skirt and fell into a low bow in front of the Queen. You remained in your low bow as you heard whispers from the crowd.

_“A smile?”_

_“Did Her Majesty smile?”_

_“I heard Her Majesty hasn’t smiled during a young lady’s debut since the Duchess of Silverkeep!”_

But the whispers halted as the Queen rose. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched her move down from her throne and stood in front of you. But still, you kept your eyes to the floor. You must never look the Queen directly in the eye, unless she were the one to initiate it.

You felt a hand on your chin and slowly titled your head upward, rising out of the low bow. The Queen, indeed, had a small smile on her face. But nothing could’ve prepared you for what came next. 

_“Simply divine.”_

You swore your heart stopped beating. But you did your best to cover it, smiling up at the Queen before redirecting your eyes back to the floor. She gingerly placed her hands on your face and kissed your forehead—an honor that you knew hadn’t been seen in over a decade. 

You and your mother backed away, bowing once more, before being directed out of the throne room.

Your fate had now been sealed. 

And it couldn’t be any better than anything you could’ve ever imagined. 

* * *

That evening, at the inaugural ball of the social season, the ballroom of the Earl and Countess of Millstone was practically alight with conversation of what had happened earlier that day. Word had spread quickly over the city Ironmere. Everybody, young and old, rich and poor, had heard of what the Queen had said about you. 

And that certainly brought you a wide array of potential suitors. Men of all ages, titles, wealth had come to vie for a chance to talk to you or, perhaps if they were lucky, earn one of your limited dances for the night. You spoke to many men of high society, laughing and enduring lackluster jokes as one after another after another tried to find some “unique” way to charm you. 

The interest only increased when they noticed that there were only empty spaces on your dance card. You hardly had time to breathe with so many men approaching you.

And you were grateful! Make no mistake, you grateful. The exact opposite of your worst fear had come true. You had your pick of suitors. The good, the bad, the ugly. But, there was a unique sort of horror that came with having to sift the through the whole lot. Yes, there were many good men trying to earn your attention, but there were many bad men, too. The kind that only have unhappy marriages and mistreated children and lonely wives. And you were trying your hardest to steer them away, but it was beginning to get harder and harder to tell who was a good man and who wasn’t. You weren’t prepared for this in the slightest. 

Your brother also wasn’t too pleased with the events that were unfolding.

He, too, was supposed to be among the men searching for a lady to marry by the end of the season, but he couldn’t turn his attention away from you. He knew many of these men better than you ever could. He knew the ins and the outs of their social lives, the kinds of things parents tried to hide away from the innocent and uncorrupted minds of daughters. 

So, with every man that tried to make their way to you, he was quick to redirect them, corner them, tell them that they didn’t have a chance in a hell of marrying you. He was the one that they’d have to go to to ask for your hand in marriage. He was the one to sort out your dowry. And he’d be the one to ensure that only the best were able to compete for your hand.

But, as a result of his meddling, the pool of suitors quickly dwindled. No one wanted to deal with hot-headed Elias Covington. They’d seen too many bar fights to know what happens when someone’s on the receiving end of his fist. And it sure as hell wasn’t pretty. So, in order to be better safe than sorry, the suitors slowly turned their attention to the other eligible ladies at the ball.

When you realized what he had done, you could hardly contain your rage. How dare Elias?! Does he not know the hardships of being a woman in this society? What’s expected of you? The limited timeline you had? 

You approached him, grabbing him by the arm and asking if you could talk. He nodded, and the two of you went off to the side to have a conversation uninterrupted by nosy mothers and potential suitors for you and him alike. 

“What are you thinking?” you hissed. 

He squared his shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, sister.”

“You know exactly what I mean. Why are you scaring away any man who dares to speak to me?!”

He scoffed. “You don’t know these men like I do.” 

“Well, I know that none of the men will speak to me. And if none of them speak to me, I cannot marry by the end of the season! Don’t you know what happens to ladies who don’t marry by the end of their first season?”

He shrugged, looking disinterested. 

“Their likelihood of marrying decreases tenfold! I’ll be doomed to the life of an unwedded woman where my only value is directly attached to the family I marry into! If I cannot marry, then I’m worthless!”

“Trust me, you’d rather be worthless than marry any of these imbeciles. None of the good men are here yet. These are men with horrid drinking habits, tendencies to gamble, and those who frequent brothels. They are not the kind of men who deserve you.”

“But by scaring them away, you scare away the good men, too! You know how quickly word spreads in this town!”

Elias sucked in a breath. “Very well. I will make it better.” 

“Good. I’ll hold you to it.” 

As Elias turned to leave, the two of you realize that the attention of the entire ball had turned to one individual: His Royal Highness, Prince Cole Brock of Liberdon.

The prince who had yet to attend a social season since coming of age.

The prince who now was approaching you.

The prince who now was smiling at you.

The prince who now was asking if you would join him in the next dance.

And, suddenly, you were grateful no man had taken up any spaces on your dance card. 


	2. Chapter Two: The Proposition

There wasn’t much that the prince enjoyed about this time of year. Yes, the weather was nice. Yes, his friends were finally in town. And, yes, there were plenty of beautiful young ladies who’d throw themselves to just look at him. But, still, Cole hated the social season for the simple fact that his grandmother would never shut up about him finding a bride.

Look, he wasn’t interested in marriage. Plain and simple. At least, not now. Not when his life had only just begun! He was only twenty-four years old! He wanted to be able to travel to far away lands, to see things people could only dream of. He didn’t want to settle down, start a family. And, while he wanted to rule over the country that gave him these privileges, he knew that he’d have to sacrifice his freedom to do so. And that was something impossible to give up.

On the day that the young ladies of Liberdon would make their debut, Cole hid away in his study in the West Tower. The palace’s staff rarely came that way, unless they were dragging him off to meals or forcing him to meet with notable members of high society. But, usually, he could be in his study for days at a time before anyone ever came to bother him. Just the way he liked it.

He was in the midst of figuring out a route to go North. He and his friends had always talked about traveling to explore the ice mountains on the northern tip of the country, and Cole figured now was as good a time as ever to head that way. Hopefully none of them would be too bothered with taking a month time’s away from the social season to explore. At the very least, he knew that the Duke of Silverkeep would be by his side, as he had been for many years.

A knock came at the door, interrupting Cole’s planning.

“Come in!” he shouted, rolling up the map and shoving it into a desk drawer. He didn’t know who was on the other side of that door, and he couldn’t be bothered if it was one of his grandmother’s maids, for he knew they would run and tell the Queen of any adventures Cole had hidden up his sleeve. That’s how the prince ended up being prevented from traveling East with some friends. (Though, perhaps that was for the best, given that he had forgotten to pack important travel documents and it would’ve made for an…interesting time returning home, even for someone of such nobility.)

Nate Hardy, officially Cole’s servant but always his friend, entered the study.

“Nate! How can I help you?” Cole asked as Nate bowed.

Nate straightened up, dropping any formalities now that the door to the study was shut. For someone so close to the prince, he was fortunate enough to be in a position to treat him as friend, not just someone he served.

“Her Majesty requests your presence,” Nate said.

“Now?” Cole questioned, growing irritated that he alone time was being encroached upon. For he knew exactly what his grandmother had to say, and he was sick of hearing it.

“You know how impatient she is.”

Cole ground his teeth together before sighing. “Very well. I’ll go there now.”

Except, just for the hell of it, Cole took his sweet, sweet time making his way through the palace. He descended the tower slowly, which took up a decent chunk of time on its own. For the West Tower was the tallest tower in the palace. Then he took the longest path he could think of to get to the throne room, even deciding to make a few pitstops in the garden and the stables, before finally going to see his grandmother.

She sat perched on her throne, one of her ladies fanning her. When Cole entered, she rolled her eyes dramatically. “I was beginning to think you’d snuck off to go on another adventure with those Dukes and that Earl you like so much,” she said.

“No, not today,” Cole said. “What is it that you needed?”

His grandmother waved off the lady fanning her, waiting to speak until the young lady had gone. When it was finally just them, the Queen said, “I’m sure you already know what I have to say.”

“I do. And my feelings have not changed. I still am not interested in attending this year’s social season.”

She nodded, staring down her nose with her beady blue eyes. Blue eyes that once held hope for her country, but now fell dull since all her joy had left her. “Then let me persuade you.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say that will change my mind.”

“I know you’re apprehensive about ascending to the throne, Cole,” she tried anyways. “But I would like for you to make your ascension before I pass so that the transition can be as smooth as possible, and so that I can provide some guidance where I can.”

“You speak as though you’ll keel over tomorrow,” Cole said, his chest tightening. _Not her, too. Not yet._

His grandmother sat straighter. “The doctors all say that I have a few years left in me. But a few years go by so quickly. I still remember when you came of age, and swore that you’d attend the next social season. And then you did the same the next year, and the next year. And now you’re twenty-four and still without a wife or children.”

“And I enjoy that life.”

“And you will learn to enjoy the married life, as well,” she said. “Marriage is not a prison. The social season gives you plenty of time to find a good woman, _a great woman_ , to marry. You just need to give it a chance.”

Cole huffed. “I just don’t see why I can’t become king without a wife.”

Her gaze softened, and she rose from her throne. She stepped down to stand on the same level as him, looking him in his own pretty blue eyes, blue eyes still twinkling with a hint of joy. “You know why, Cole. You need to have a wife and at least one child before you can become king to ensure that the family line will continue.”

“I wasn’t born to be king, though,” he argued.

“I know. But you were still raised to be one. And a fine king you will be, when you have a suitable woman by your side.” The Queen took a step back, rising back up on a step to tower over him. “I have a good feeling about this social season. Just give it a chance. I’m sure you’ll be surprised.”

Cole sighed, then said, “I will consider it.”

“I suppose that’s the best I’m going to get,” she said. “Very well. You are dismissed.”

* * *

Cole returned to his study after his talk with his grandmother. But, now, he was no longer interested in planning an adventure. No, he had much to think about.

He spent most of the day peering out the window, watching as carriages arrived and mothers and daughters came into the palace, wearing the best white gowns money could afford. And, though impossible, he could practically see and feel the anguish many of them felt when his grandmother undoubtedly didn’t approve. This was a much harsher social season, after all. This was the one she wanted him to marry, and she’d never let some riff-raff rule beside her crowning jewel.

But, when all the carriages had gone, Cole decided he could no longer remain locked away in his study. He called for a carriage of his own, and left for one of the few safe spaces he had outside of the West Tower: the home of the Duke and Duchess of Silverkeep.

He was greeted the chamberlain of the household, who ushered him into the home and said that the Duke and Duchess were about to have lunch, and that she’d have a place set for him, too. He thanked her, looking around the foyer as he waited for his friends to make their appearance.

And he needn’t wait long. The Duke had some sort of sixth sense in regard to the prince, so he was making his way down the stairs to greet him before the prince even had a moment to think to himself.

“Your Highness!” the Duke greeted. “I wasn’t expecting you today!”

“Sam, you know you can call me by my name,” Cole laughed. “Hope you don’t mind that I dropped in unannounced.”

“That’s most people’s dreams, you know. For a prince to arrive unexpectedly for lunch,” Sam laughed, too.

“And for you?”

“My worst nightmare. I thought I was rid of you forever when I got married.”

“Little did we know that meant we’d have to adopt you into the family,” the Duchess joked, coming out of the sitting room.

“Good afternoon, Katrina,” Cole said. “And you should know, as the person of highest rank in this house, I was the one doing the adopting, not you.”

“Then why do you spend so much time at your home then your own palace?”

“Fair play, Duchess. Fair play.”

The chamberlain announced that lunch was ready, so the three of them went to the dining room, where they were presented with an impressive meal. (Though, nothing that could compare to the food served to the Queen. But, still, a wonderful meal that care and effort were put into.)

As they ate, Sam asked, “So, what makes you grace us with your presence on this fine day?”

Cole set his fork down, rolling his eyes dramatically. “My grandmother. You know how she is.”

Katrina raised a brow. “Is Her Majesty, rightfully, telling you that you need to wed soon?”

“Not you, too!” Cole groaned. “I just hate that I have to give up my freedom in order to rule Liberdon. I just wish I could be a young boy again, and run around this kingdom without a care in the world.”

Sam smiled, looking over to Katrina. Cole had to suppress another eye roll as they stared at each other so lovingly. “Well, when you marry the right woman, you don’t really lose your freedom at all.”

“Easy for you to say. Katrina was the talk of the town when she made her debut. They say my grandmother smiled for the first time in years when she was presented. You had an absolute diamond in your midst, you would’ve been a fool to let that go.”

Katrina’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of which, your grandmother smiled this morning, too.”

Sam grinned. “Not only that, she kissed the forehead of the young lady. And said that she was _simply divine_.”

Cole looked between the couple. “What? Who did she say this about?”

“The daughter of the Dowager Viscountess Covington, Miss Y/N Covington,” Katrina said.

“She’s Elias Covington’s younger sister,” Sam added.

Cole knew Elias Covington well. The two of them had gone to boarding school together (though, then again, the majority of young men in high society had gone to boarding school together). He also knew of Elias’s hot-temper and proclivity of getting into bar fights, especially when some poor dolt made an undue comment about his sister. Really, it was quite a feat that the sister of such an angry man could earn such a high compliment from his grandmother.

“Really? I must admit, I’m surprised.”

“You wouldn’t be surprised if you saw Miss Covington,” Katrina said. “She’s beautiful enough to be used as a model for a painting of an angel.”

“So could you,” Sam said.

“Yes, well, we’re not trying to push Cole into marrying me, now are we?” she teased.

“No, but imagine how the town would lose their heads if that happened,” Sam laughed.

“The town? Imagine how the country would react,” Cole laughed. “Though, at this rate, I think they’re more likely to speculate I’m seeing you, Sam.”

Sam snorted. “Oh don’t say that! If they haven’t already started that rumor, I’m sure they will now!”

“Well, all the more reason to go to this social season,” Katrina suggested.

Cole sighed. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, how about this, just come to the first ball of the season. After all, I’m pretty certain that the Earl and Countess of Carlisle will be there. And, little Jillian’s also made her debut! So, you know the Earl and Countess of Millstone will be there, too!”

“Well, I’d hope so, given that it’s their ball,” Sam laughed.

“Hush, I’m making a point now.”

Cole tried to distract, get the attention away from the social season. God, he _hated_ the social season with every fiber in his being. “Why do you keep using all the formalities? Just call them Jake and Tara, and Reggie and Cassie.”

“Well, you forget, Your Highness, not all of us have the privilege of being so lax,” Katrina reminded. “Regardless, just consider it, please? We’ll be there, too. So if you get annoyed or bored or anything, you can hide away with the rest of us.”

“Very well. I’ll give it some thought.”

* * *

Cole made a point to arrive late to the inaugural ball. He didn’t entirely want to be there, so he would pay it no respects by showing up on time. And, of course, there was the chance that everyone would be too busy and caught up in their own lives to notice his arrival.

That was just wishful thinking, of course.

For, this was the first time Cole would be making an appearance at a social season since he came of age. This was a big deal, and everyone knew that. Even him, no matter how much he tried to fool himself.

So, it was no surprise that the masses descended upon him like vultures when he entered the ballroom of the Earl and Countess of Millstone. Mothers pushed their daughters toward him. Daughters threw themselves at him, offering up blank spaces on dance cards. Fathers tried to have him join them for a drink. Brothers talked of whatever approving thing the Queen had done during their sisters presentation.

He, frankly, didn’t give a shit about any of that.

What he did care about was finding a drink. Or perhaps a friend. He wasn’t particularly picky about it, though. Whichever came first.

But, then something caught his eye.

In a sea of rabid dogs trying to latch onto him, there were two people who hadn’t paid him any notice. And he recognized at least one of them: Elias Covington. And, if he was a betting man, he would’ve bet that the feisty woman hissing at him was his younger sister, the now infamous Y/N Covington.

Whispers filled the hall as he turned away from the drinks table and began to make his ways towards the pair of you.

_“Is that really His Royal Highness?”_

_“Straighten up, dear, you must make a good impression for the prince.”_

_“Who do you think he is walking towards?”_

_“Prince Cole, long time, no see! Got an exploration planned any time soon?”_

But he waved them all off, save for the last one where the Earl of Carlisle earned a grin for his question.

No, there was one thing he was interested, and one conversation that had piqued his interest.

Elias Covington towered over you as he hissed, “Trust me, you’d rather be worthless than marry any of these imbeciles. None of the good men are here yet. These are men with horrid drinking habits, tendencies to gamble, and those who frequent brothels. They are not the kind of men who deserve you.”

But in true Covington fashion, you snapped back, “But by scaring them away, you scare away the good men, too! You know how quickly word spreads in this town!”

Elias sucked in a breath. “Very well. I will make it better.”

You didn’t look quite convinced, squaring your shoulders and holding your head high, trying to match him in intimidation tactics. It was cute, really. “Good. I’ll hold you to it.”

As Elias turned to leave, the pair of you realized that the attention of the entire ball had turned to the prince, followed by the realization that the prince now stood in front of the pair of you.

“Pardon me,” he said with the grace and manners he was raised with. “Miss Covington, I was wondering if you would join me in the next dance?”

You stared at him, your beautiful eyes wide, as you nodded. “It would…be an honor, Your Highness.”

You presented your dance card to him, and he wrote his name in the slot for the next dance, a wonderful waltz that was his favorite of all the wretched dances he was forced to learn. But, curiously, the slot he filled was the only slot with a name. Were you just as disinterested in marriage as him? Or had Elias truly been fighting men away from you?

Probably the latter.

But, it was nice to think you were a kindred spirit.

Cole let go of the dance card, watching it dangle from your wrist, when he noticed couples were moving to the dance floor. “Ah, I believe the waltz is beginning. Care to join me, Miss Covington?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” you said, giving him a small smile and taking his arm.

He led you to the dance floor and said, “Please, you can call me Cole.”

“Well, in that case, you can call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said, trying out the name. He liked the sound of it. And he oddly seemed to like you, too. Was this what Sam felt the first time he spoke to Katrina? When Jake spoke to Tara? When Reggie spoke to Cassie? If it was, he could get used to this. And, he certainly couldn’t help himself as he held you in his arms as the waltz began when he said, “ _Simply divine, indeed._ ”


	3. Chapter Three: The Suitors

You were absolutely thrilled at the prospects for the day when you awoke. The events of the previous night were all anyone could talk about. Even Elias, who never seemed to smile anymore, seemed content with the prince’s interest in you. And when Elias informed your mother? Oh, she wanted to throw her own ball on the spot! A prince? Interested in a Covington? Why, that’s something no one would dare forget! And should you marry him? After being called _simply divine_ by not only Her Majesty but also His Royal Highness? You may as well be elevated to goddess status! To think, she would’ve been content with you marrying an marquess! A marquess! But, now, you had yourself _a prince_! Oh, there was nothing a mother could for more.

She did seem to grow anxious, though, when he wasn’t among the first to arrive when time came for you to entertain potential suitors for the day. You kept whispering to her that the prince didn’t seem to care for time, that he even arrived to the ball late. What was time when you were to be a king, after all?

Still, that meant you had to entertain more men than you cared to see in one day. At least they seemed to be more…charming than the men who spoke to you last night. The prince’s interest in you, coupled with the Queen’s comment during your presentation, was enough to make your value as a future bride skyrocket. And, well, you’d be a fool (and rude) to not entertain them until the real prospect for your hand arrived.

This, however, quickly soured Elias’s mood.

Every man who arrived that morning brought a gift of some sort. Fresh flowers, baked goods straight from the oven, sparkling jewelry. Still, none of it seemed to impress your brother. He turned his nose in the air, scoffing so only you and your mother could hear about how he thought in some way or another the gift was cheap. Your mother was quick to hush him, knowing his tendency to scare other men away.

Still, much of your mother’s efforts went to waste. Sure, the men never heard Elias’s snide comments. But they’d have to be blind to miss his darkened glare, the way he stood a little too close, towering over the potential suitor. How he kept you close, how he stayed slightly in front of you to create a barrier of sorts between you and the suitor.

At one point, you had to wonder if the man you were speaking to was a bad person or if Elias was in some way trying to make it clear he intended only for one person in particular to earn your hand in marriage.

Regardless, it was all becoming a bit too much for you liking.

You long side lost count of how many times you’d have to give a man a kind smile before excusing yourself, pulling Elias to the side and telling him to lay off.

_“You need to stop this foolishness, Elias,” you hissed when he nearly fought a potential suitor._

_“He wasn’t worthy of your hand, sister,” he snarled back._

_“You have no right to say that. He seemed a fine enough man!”_

_“Fine enough is not good enough!”_

_“You should not meddle so much, brother,” you snapped. “No man is perfect! I need to have room to breathe and figure out who is good for me on my own! Let me figure out who I think is worthy of my time before you chase them off for the most minor of flaws!”_

_“Very well, sister.”_

But he didn’t listen. He never listened, at all, really. Perhaps that was a benefit of being a man. Men didn’t have to listen to anyone if they didn’t want to.

Eventually, the suitors all left, seemingly not…too upset at your brother’s behavior. At least that was an improvement from last night.

You and your family waited in the sitting room for some after that, just in case the prince did decide to grace you with his appearance. It seemed unlikely at this point, though. It was nearly noon. Surely, if the prince was going to come, he would’ve by now?

You’d learn not to underestimate royalty, though.

For, as you began to retire to your room until lunch was ready, the butler opened the door to the sitting room, holding the largest bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Cole of Liberdon, has arrived,” the butler announced, handing off the flowers to your mother.

As she went to set them atop a table, shifting around the now less-than-stellar bouquets from the previous men, the prince entered the sitting room, a smirk on his face and a jewelry box in hand.

“Pardon me,” he said, “for being so late. I couldn’t decide between what gift I should bring.”

You looked over at the flowers, then back at him, smiling ever so slightly. “No apology is necessary, Your Highness.”

“I told you, you can call me Cole. And the same can be said for you, Viscountess. I’m no fan of formalities and I would hope for my future in-laws to be comfortable enough to speak freely around me.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d allow you to marry my sister,” your brother said.

“ _ELIAS!_ ” you and your mother snapped at the same time.

Fortunately, though, the prince didn’t seem too offended by your brother. In fact, he was…laughing? What?

“Thank you for your candor, Elias. I hope to prove that I am good enough for your sister so that you would allow me her hand in marriage.”

“You have a lot of work to do then, for he’s personally chased away most men who’s come in here today,” you said, shooting your brother a glare.

“Then I suppose I should begin the groveling now?” Cole turned his focus to the jewelry box in his had. He smiled to himself, before opening the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond necklace that was so dainty and intricate it almost looked like lace. “I hope this is to your liking, Y/N.”

“It’s beautiful!”

Cole smiled. “I’m glad you like it. May I put it on you?”

“Of course,” you said, turning and pulling you hair away from your neck.

Your brother was quick to move closer to you. “Don’t get any funny ideas, Your Highness.”

“Elias!” your mother snapped as Cole laughed, “You worry too much, Elias. I would never take advantage of your sister, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“And I’ll make sure you never do,” Elias said, his eyes narrowed as he watched Cole clasp the necklace. “Alright, you’ve put the necklace on her. Now step away like a gentleman.”

Cole quirked a brow. “I don’t need to be coached on how to be a gentleman. But thank you for reminding me, regardless.”

Elias frowned, looking as though he was ready to turn the dispute to something more physical. But you knew he wouldn’t. At least, not with you and your mother present. You’d both have his head on a spike faster than the Queen could have him sentenced to a life-time in the royal penitentiary.

You could only hope this day could go smoothly, because if he ruined this for you, you were going to be sure to spend the rest of your life ruining his. And that was something you swore on your father’s grave.

* * *

Thankfully, the day went off without Elias attempting to fight the prince. He managed to leave your home unscathed, though probably had some mental wounds to recover from as your brother didn’t hold back from giving the prince a piece of his mind over, well, everything.

But that wasn’t the only thing to come from the prince visiting you.

As luck would have it, nothing in Ironmere remains a secret for long, as the town had quickly learned of his visit. By the time you and your mother had gone to pick up your gown for that night’s ball from Devyn and Xepher, the entire town was alight with the news. To not only have the Queen’s approval, but the prince’s as well? All of Ironmere, and soon all of Liberdon, would know that you were likely going to be the lady to finally get Prince Cole to settle down.

Still, this news seemed to only excite the other eligible men in high society. By the time you walked into the ballroom of the Duke and Duchess of Kirkwall, you had nearly a dozen men trying to fill out spots on your dance card.

Thankfully, you were quickly saved by your lifelong best friend, Lady Amber Scholl.

“Excuse me, boys,” she said, looping her arm through yours, “I’m afraid us ladies need to go gossip. But worry not, I’m sure Miss Y/N here will have plenty of dances left for the lot of you!”

And, without so much waiting for them to protest, she pulled you off to the farthest corner of the ballroom, where you could talk with little interruption.

“Thank you for that,” you said. “I was worried they were going to start duking it out in the middle of the dance floor.”

Amber laughed. “Y/N, dear Y/N, you need to learn to have a firm hand with these men. They think they can take, take, take, and you need to remind that you are not just a prize to be won. If it helps, pretend they’re Elias.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I’d rather not pretend my potential suitors are my brother.”

“Potential suitors? And here I thought you were practically already engaged to His Royal Hotness,” Amber smirked.

“Oh, stop it! He hasn’t even begun properly courting me yet.”

“But you are the first and only woman he’s interested in.” Her eyes fell to the necklace you wore, and her smirk broadened. “And it seems like he’s practically branded you as his.”

You dissolved into giggles. “Seriously? A necklace is a branding now?”

“He went out of his way to buy you something special. It may as well be a branding,” she said. “And a gorgeous branding at that! How much do you imagine he spent on that?”

“Oh lord, I’d rather not think of that,” you shuddered, the dollar signs swirling around your mind.

“Very well.” Amber paused, then said, “I regret that I didn’t get to see your debut. I heard you made quite the impression on the Queen.”

“Oh, not that! I already have to deal with everyone else in this town telling me how special I am!”

“Fine! You choose the subject, Miss Elias the Second.”

You wrinkled your nose again, before saying, “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but I’ve always wondered, why have you not married yet?”

Amber rolled her eyes and gestured at the masses. “Look at these men. Not a one of them are good enough for me.”

“But do you not want to marry? How can you keep delaying the inevitable?”

Amber shrugged. “I like my freedom. I like that I can spend my money and not answer to a man. I like that I don’t have to worry about raising a child. I’m not interested in that sort of thing.”

“But that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“No,” she corrected. “That’s what they tell us to do. I only come to these things to appease my mother. But, if I had it my way, I’d be sitting pretty on a pile of money, not listening to anything these vultures had to say.”

You frowned. “You know, they say no man wants to marry you. That you’re an unlikable wench who’ll die alone.”

“Why, I could get any man I want,” Amber laughed. “Even that little prince of yours. I just don’t want to.”

“But wouldn’t you want a husband eventually?”

“Hmm…No.”

You began to question how she could be so bold, when a high-pitched _ahem!_ interrupted you.

You turned, seeing a tall, slender lady eyeing you. She wore a look of absolute disgust, like she had bitten into a rotten apple. “Are you Y/N Covington?” she asked, turning her nose to the air.

“I am,” you said. “And who are you?”

“Lady Serena Wharton,” she said, as though you should’ve known who the woman was.

“And how can she help you?” Amber jumped in, looking ready to claw Lady Serena’s boring blue eyes out of her skull.

“No one was speaking to you, hedge whore,” Lady Serena sneered.

Amber gasped. “Why I outta—”

“Excuse me, don’t you dare insult my friend!” you said, your voice was as dark as Elias’s did when he was ready to knock the daylights out of a man. “Now, say what the hell you want to say or go back to whatever dungeon you tumbled out of!”

She stalked up to you, getting so close you could smell her bourbon-laced breath. You cringed, wondering how the hell a lady of high society could get her hands on such a drink. “Stay the hell away from the prince.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will deny the prince’s advancements.”

And before you could argue, she turned on her heel, making sure to smack your face with her hair as she stalked away.

You held your hand up, stopping Amber from chasing after the strange woman, and said, “Not now. Not in front of everyone.”

Amber ground her teeth together. “Then when?”

“When there’s no one to come up with more horrid rumors about you.” You gave her a smile, trying to tell her you were fine and that she didn’t need to defend you this second. “You might not care about what society says about you. But I do, and I don’t want you to be relegated to a life of loneliness defending me.”

“Y/N…”

“She’s probably no one, anyways. What could she possibly do to me, anyways?”

Little did you know what was in store for you.


	4. Chapter Four: The Contemplation

There were few things that Cole enjoyed about the social season. He hated the expectations, he hated the events. He hated having to be on his best behavior. But there were some good things about the social season. More recently, you, in all your beauty and kindness. But, before you, he had his friends, who so rarely were able to come together while they ruled over their respective domains. But, during the social season, they all would live in the same town for months on end, allowing the friends to finally spend time together. 

And so, on a sunny Thursday, he invited the Dukes and the Duchess and the Earl and the Countess to the palace, having the servants put together a lovely afternoon in Cole’s favorite of the parlor rooms. His friends all arrived on time, for you are never late for a royal, no matter how close of a friend you are. They gathered in the parlor room, seated in the plush chairs as tea was poured in the most beautiful teacups of all of Liberdon. 

“It took you long enough to invite us here,” Corey, the Duke of Swinford said, taking a bite of one of the fluffy pastries that had been prepared. “There’s been, what, two balls already? I was beginning to worry you no longer wanted to see us!”

Cole laughed. “I was in the middle of planning another adventure!”

“Another?” Tara, the Countess of Carlisle, questioned. “Haven’t you had enough for a lifetime?” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t retire from exploring after you and Sam were kidnapped by pirates!” Katrina added, nudging Sam, who nearly spit out his tea.

“I thought we said that was going to be a secret!” Sam said to Cole. Then, he looked to his wife. “Who told you about that?”

“Oh, you should know by now that Cole can’t keep anything from me!”

“Your wife _is_ quite frightening,” Cole said. “I feared she would claw my eyes out!”

Sam looked to Katrina’s long nails and shuddered. “Fair enough. But at least we escaped!”

“And mostly in tact! Only a few minor cuts and bruises,” Cole said. 

“Don’t you still have a scar from when a pirate—” Jake began.

_“Shhh!”_ Cole and Sam hushed. 

“We’re trying to diffuse the situation here, Jacob, not make it worse!” Cole said. 

“Hey! Don’t you be _Jacob_ -ing me! The only people allowed to pull out my full name is my mother and Tara!”

Corey, who had been distracted by the plate of cookies that had been brought out, suddenly said, “Hey, do you remember that haunted mining town we explored last year?” 

Tara laughed. “Wasn’t that the one where you were chased out of a cave?”

“No, no, they were chased out of a cave when they walked in on some dark ritual!” Katrina corrected. 

“No, actually, we were chased out of a cave in the mining town!” Cole said. He poked at Corey. “This man got some _chills_ and swore he saw some shadowman watching us!”

“The shadowman!” Sam laughed. “I’m pretty sure he just saw his own shadow!”

Corey shook his head, his eyes going comically wide. “No, there really was a shadowman!”

“Sure there was,” Jake said. “I’ll believe that when Cole finally gets married!”

“Well, you might not have to wait long,” Katrina said. “A little birdie told me that Cole got Miss Y/N Covington a necklace and bought out a whole florist yesterday.”

Cole flushed, suddenly becoming more interested in his cup of tea. 

Sam nudged Cole with his elbow, adding, “And I heard he spent the whole night dancing with her at the Millstone ball!”

Cole huffed, looking anywhere but at his friends. “I don’t see why this is such news. I have to marry eventually. Why does it matter so much that I’ve finally decided to pursue it instead of putting it off?” 

“Well, you never seemed the type to be interested in marriage in the first place,” Tara said gently. 

“Well, we all knew I would have to in order to ascend to the throne, as I’m meant to.” 

“I’m just surprised by your choice in future bride,” Corey said, swiping another cookie from a tray. 

Cole sat a little straighter, sending a glare at his friend. What the hell did he mean by that? Did he not like Y/N? What did he even know about Y/N? Had they even met before? How the hell did he think it okay to make harsh judgments on someone so kind? “Tread carefully.”

Corey threw his hands in the air. “Woah! I don’t mean it like that! I meant that I was just surprised you didn’t decide to nip the marriage issue in the bud and marry Serena!”

Sam nodded, adding, “Honestly, I always expected the two of you to marry, anyways. For a while, I thought there actually was an arranged marriage situation going on. Then you both came of age, and nothing came of it, so I thought I might be wrong.”

Cole fell back in his seat, tuning out Sam’s ramblings. Had they all thought that? But why? Sure, Serena and him used to be incredible friends before she moved away, but had they really been that close that marriage between the two of them seemed like a viable option to an outsider?

* * *

_There was little that Cole understood. About the real world, at least. He was good at reading. He was good at speaking. He had some trouble with arithmetic, but when you’re a prince, you can hire the best of the best to tutor you. Or, rather, your parents could hire the best of the best._

_But now he had no parents. He didn’t understand why, but his grandmother, his ever stoic grandmother, pulled him onto her lap, her eyes shining as she explained to him that he would never see his parents or his brother again. He was too young to understand words like murder or assassination, he was too little to know that people wanted to steal the power his family had. He knew nothing of the sort._

_What he did know was that his father would never be around to show him the big books in his study in the West Tower. He knew that his mother would never smooth down his mess of hair and read bedtime stories to him. He knew that his brother would no longer be around to play knights with him. There would be no more picnics in the garden, no more trips to the summer palace, no more light in his life._

_He mourned, though it was many years before he truly understood the gravity of what he lost. The Queen kept him busy in an effort to distract him from the pain of his loss. She knew what that pain felt like and, as complicated a woman as she was, she never wanted him to feel that kind of heartache._

_Kids are smarter than people give them credit for, though. He learned, eventually, when he overheard a maid talking to a cook when he went down to the kitchens to sneak some sweets. He learned that his family wasn’t just gone away on a trip like his grandmother had suggested all those years ago, but rather they’d succumbed to the poison that was laced in their food. The food he, too, was supposed to eat, but didn’t when he came down with a terrible virus and couldn’t keep any food down. By the time he was well, he’d inherited a life he was never meant to have. He was never meant to grow to become a king, but now he was left with no choice._

_He truly mourned that day, hiding in the stables where the only living creatures to see him cry were the horses. He wasn’t alone for long, though. His long-time friend, Serena Wharton, found him, regaling some tale about the whole of the castle was looking for him. But as he sniffled, she fell short, taking him in her arms, and shushing him, much like his mother used to when his brother played a little too rough during their games._

_And it was on that day, as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, that Prince Cole of Liberdon swore to Lady Serena Wharton that he would always love her, and that he would ensure she was treated like royalty for the rest of her days._

* * *

Around him, his friends continued to chatter, reminiscing about past adventures and regaling stories of their lives when it’s not the social season. But Cole, he had fallen deep into his own mind.

Was he really making the right choice? Was marriage something he wanted? And with someone he’d hardly know? Would it not be better to marry someone you were friends with first? To know what they’re like, what to expect? 

Was Lady Serena Wharton the woman he was supposed to marry? Or was it Y/N? 


	5. Chapter Five: The Realization

The best part of the social season, in your not-so-humble opinion, was the vibrant marketplace that sprung up. Sure, the goods were all horribly overpriced. But, as someone who loved all things beautiful, you could look past the prices for long enough to pass your money to whatever shop owner who’s products caught your interest. After all, you so rarely spent your money when you were in Evermore, so the social season gave you the perfect opportunity to get the most beautiful, most wonderful products Liberdon had to offer. Even before your debut, coming to market when your parents hosted their own balls and, eventually when Elias entered high society, was easily the best part of the year. 

Though, shopping was rarely a practice done in solitude. At least, it was a practice you could rarely have _fun_ doing in solitude. So, you convinced Amber to join you. Though, it was hardly something that took much convincing. A mere “would you like to join me at the mark—” was enough to catch your friend’s interest. 

“Hmm, what do you think of this?” Amber asked, showing off an embroidered handkerchief. 

You examined, looking closely at the stitches before giving your nod of approval. “It’s exquisite!” You turned to the person working the booth in the market. “How much?” 

The woman eyed the pair of you, before saying, “40.” 

“We’ll take two then,” you declared, picking up a handkerchief for yourself as the two of you paid her. 

After the woman confirmed you both gave her the right amount, you and Amber continued through the market, stopping at booths that were of interest. As you paused at a booth of beautiful fans, you noticed Amber giving you a look.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, examining a white fan adorned with feathers. 

“Are we not going to talk about what happened at the ball?”

You set the fan down. “What’s there to talk about? A lady threatened me for being near the prince. I’m sure any other lady, and their mothers for that matter, would do the same. It’s just none of them were drunk or bold enough to do so.”

Amber pursed her lips. “I’m not so convinced. There was something dangerous in her eyes. I fear she’ll make good on her threat.” 

You frowned, your brows furrowing together. “What could she possibly do? She wouldn’t be bold enough to attack me herself. And I’ve never even heard of this Lady Serena Wharton until she was telling me to leave the prince alone. How do I even know this threat is credible?” 

A clearing of the throat stopped Amber from responding. The two of you turned, seeing a tall man standing a few feet away. He was clearly of high society, his clothes neat and of the current fashion. Though, the visible ink on his neck and hands gave you pause. You’d never seen a man of high society…decorate their body in such a way. 

“Excuse me,” he said, “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I couldn’t help but overhear. Are you talking about Lady Serena Wharton?” 

Amber nodded. “Yes, we are. Why do you ask?”

“Just to clarify, she threatened you?” he asked, looking over at you.

“She did threaten my friend,” Amber confirmed. “She told Y/N to stay away from His Royal Highness or else.” 

The man sucked in a breath. “Oh, that’s a credible threat, alright.” 

You blinked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’ve introduced yourself.” 

The man apologized quickly, introducing himself as Lord Aryia Emrani. Both you and Amber introduced yourselves afterwards, after realizing that he likely didn’t know your names either. 

“And how do you know Lady Serena?” you asked. 

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, we have time,” Amber said. “Time that you’re wasting by not telling us.”

You bit on your lip, saying quietly to Amber, “I don’t know if we should be talking to him. He’s an unwedded man, and neither of us are chaperoned right now. What if someone sees us? What if someone says something? This could ruin our reputations, our lives.”

Amber took your hands in hers. “Y/N, sweet Y/N, you worry too much. There is nothing that can be said that will ruin us. And I’m sure your mother would be willing to lie and say she was nearby.” 

You eyed the man, before agreeing. “Very well. What do you know about her?”

“Most of this is secondhand information, rumors spread from my part of the country, so I can’t verify its truth,” Aryia said. “Lady Serena and Prince Cole were friends from childhood. Their mothers had been close friends, so it only made sense for the two of them would grow up together. They were as thick as thieves. Where you saw one, the other was somewhere nearby.” 

Amber frowned. “What happened, then? I’ve never heard of her before.” 

“Things became strained after the prince’s family passed. The older he got, the more she distracted him from his studies. He became someone different when she was around. The Queen worried she would eventually tarnish the royal name.” 

“So what did the Queen do?” you asked. The Queen’s disapproval was not something to be taken lightly. If you so much as breathed in a wrong way around her, she could ruin your life. 

“She had the entire Wharton family sent away. She was sent to the eastern part of Liberdon, relegated to the worst town in the whole country.” 

Amber said quietly to you, “That sounds like a good motive for revenge.” 

“Rumor has it, when Lady Serena made her debut a few seasons ago, the Queen _grimaced_ for the first time in over a decade.”

You and Amber exchanged a look. A grimace? From the Queen? That was practically signed the death certificate of an unmarried woman who lived the most destitute life.

“I think I heard of that!” Amber gasped. “It was three seasons after my debut. Apparently, she couldn’t show her face at any of the balls. Any time she tried to go, she was turned away. Nobody wanted her to ruin their events.” 

“Oh, that’s horrible.”

Aryia scoffed. “Pardon me, but you really shouldn’t be so sympathetic to somehow who’s threatening you and your future.”

Amber eyed the man. “You know, I have to agree with you. Y/N, now is not the time to be a sweetheart.” 

“Well, I must be going,” Aryia said. “But be careful. That woman has a heart of ice. She knows no mercy when in the pursuit of what she wants.” 

“Thank you for telling us,” Amber said.

Aryia turned and left, but you were too disheartened to return to shopping. Amber suggested a walk in the park to clear your mind. You agreed, leaving the marketplace. The two of you linked your arms, walking down the path in silence, Amber allowing you the space to process your thoughts. That, perhaps, was one of your favorite things about Amber. She always had your back, but she knew when to give you space to yourself. That kind of friendship was something that only came once in a lifetime, and you were forever grateful to have Amber as your friend.

But, a quiet gasp pulled you from your thoughts.

You looked up, and your heart fell to your stomach. 

How could he?

Sure, nothing was official, but…you thought he was serious.

Did none of it matter?

Suddenly, you wanted to rip off your necklace and throw into the River Thurram.

_For, hanging off of Prince Cole’s arm, was none other than Lady Serena Wharton, chaperoned by her older sister Lady Priscilla Bennett._


	6. Chapter Six: The Best Friend

Oh, there was no better feeling than having a prince wrapped around your finger. Serena hadn’t even had to make good on her threat to that wretched Covington when His Royal Highness came crawling to her. It’s as if he realized that he was dealing with an inferior woman with that awful Covington. After all, why did such frivolous things as titles make women more appealing? It’s not what a woman is born into that makes a woman a good wife. It’s being attentive, devoted to your husband. And could you provide that for Prince Cole? Oh, hardly! You didn’t know the first thing about him! But Serena? She knew everything. Well, everything that mattered, anyways. Everything that could make him hers. 

Serena laughed as Prince Cole told her of his life since that rotten Queen had her family sent away. Oh, she’d make the old bat pay for that one. But first, she had to make sure Cole thought of her as the most precious of diamonds. Perhaps, then, she could get an even better necklace that Y/N Covington’s. And a ring too. Oh, and perhaps a tiara?

Tiaras. Oh, how she longed for one! She was certain she’d have dozens by the end of the social season, when she finally trapped the dolt of a prince into a marriage. She may have loved the man, but she adored the power he had more. The power he will have, when he ascends to the throne with her by his side and a couple of kids at their feet. After all, if anyone would look pretty on a throne, it would be her.

“So, Lady Serena, how have you been?” Cole asked, smiling down at her. 

Serena put on her most charming of smiles. “Oh, don’t feel like you have to use the formalities, Cole. We’ve been friends for far too long. Call me Serena.” 

Cole paused, then repeated his question, “Lady Serena, how have you been?” 

Serena resisted the urge to grind her teeth together, to yell about how he was a useless bastard if he couldn’t follow through with such a simple request. But with her sister behind them, ready to rip Serena’s hair out should she mess up, and the crowd of people in the park and nearby marketplace made her pause. 

She took a breath and said in her sweetest of voices. “I’ve been quite well, my prince. Not much happens over in Squall’s End.” She paused, then batted her eyelashes at him. “I will say, though, I’ve missed you a great deal.” 

“The palace never was quite the same after you left,” Cole admitted. “I feel like you took a part of me with you when you moved away.” 

Moved away? How dare he make it sound like she and her family had a choice! That whore of a grandmother of his forced them away, sentencing them to a destitute life in the worst part of Liberdon! 

But she held back, giggling, and asked, “Your heart, my prince?” 

Cole laughed. “No, I was thinking something like my kidney.” 

Serena laughed, but inside she was stewing. A kidney? A kidney?! An organ of zero consequence if he should lose one?! He may as well told her she was a single drop of blood!

But, her anger melted as she looked across the park, locking eyes with Lady Amber Scholl. And, as she watched the lady freeze, you looked up in confusion, following Lady Amber’s gaze straight to Serena.

She could hardly contain her excitement, laughing louder at whatever the hell Cole was saying, leaning her head against his bicep for a moment. 

And, as you looked like you had seen death yourself, turning and leaving the park with Amber in tow, Serena felt like it was already her wedding day. Oh, how she hoped to humiliate you further this social season!

“I must admit,” Cole said, pulling Serena away from her schemes, “I’m surprised you haven’t married yet.”

She smiled up at him, genuinely for once. “Well, I do recall that one man told me he’d always treat me like royalty. It’s hard to compete with that.”

Cole looked down at her, then away. His eyes widened for a moment, and Serena followed his gaze, realizing he, too, saw you and Amber leaving the park. His voice lost its charm as he said, “Yes, I suppose it is.” 

* * *

Lady Amber Scholl prided herself on many things. Her fashion sense. Her ability to find the most rare items to decorate her home with. Her beauty. Her ability to charm a room. But most importantly, she prided herself on her loyalty.

Though many had turned their back on her since she refused to settle down, you were one of the only ones who stayed with her. You, in all of your childlike innocence, would always smile up at her, ignoring the rumors and wicked things the _ton_ had to say. 

“What do they know about you?” you’d always say when Amber would regale the newest rumor the men and women of the _ton_ came up with since her debut. “You’re a perfect, uncut gem in a mountain of coal. If they knew a single thing about who you really are, they’d want to _be_ you, not try to tear you down.”

Even her own family had grown sick of her unwillingness to wed, of her chasing off suitors in whatever absurd thing she came up with. But you? You knew loyalty. You knew friendship. And Amber would forever feel in debt to you for that. 

One of her only regrets was listening to you when you asked her to not make a scene that night Lady Serena threatened you. Perhaps that would’ve made the difference. Perhaps things would be different.

Nevertheless, she can’t change the past, no matter how much she wished for it. But, she was able to change the future. Or, at the very least, make a difference.

It wasn’t hard to find out where the Wharton family lived. Amber found Lord Aryia after taking you back home, and he explained to look for the “shabbiest of the high society homes on Trepidation Alley”. And, sure enough, tucked between the more beautiful, more expensive homes of the Lord and Lady Griffiths and the Baron and Baroness of Arlingburgh, was a house that looked like it had seen many years of neglect. 

Amber walked up to the steps, grabbed the lion doorknocker, and knocked _one! two! three!_ times. She took a step back, and a moment later, a maid answered the door. 

“Wharton residence,” the maid said. “May I help you?”

“Hello!” Amber greeted. “I’m Lady Amber Scholl, one of Lady Serena’s friends? I’m so sorry to intrude, but is she busy? I was hoping to have afternoon tea with her?”

“Oh, I believe she’s free! I’ll go get her!” the maid said, her eyes lighting up. 

Amber wondered if Lady Serena had visitors often. She assumed not, for why would the maid be so excited? 

“Oh, and please just tell her a friend is visiting? I hope to surprise her,” Amber suggested. 

The maid nodded, smiling widely, and directed Amber to the sitting room so she could wait. 

Oh, Amber couldn’t wait to wipe that smug look off that bitch’s face. She perched herself on a chair, careful to not let her nice clothes touch…too much of this outdated furniture. Something about it all gave her the icks, the same energy she received from Lady Serena when she first stalked up to you at the ball.

“How may I—” Lady Serena began as she waltzed into the sitting room. Her entire face fell into a sneer when she saw Amber in her home. “Oh. It’s you. Why are you here?” 

Amber rose to her feet, dusting off her dress. “I came with a message.”

“A message?” Lady Serena scoffed. “If that wench Y/N has something to say—”

“It’s _my_ message. And you’ll do well to keep Y/N’s name out of your putrid little mouth.” 

“Putrid? As if!” Lady Serena stalked up to Amber. “If you have something to say, say it now before I have you thrown back to the streets, you hedge whore.” 

Amber couldn’t stop herself as she pushed Lady Serena back. The lady clearly wasn’t expecting that, stumbling backwards until she fell on her butt. Amber stood over her, and said in the voice that made all the men run from her, “You will leave my friend alone. You will stay away from her, and His Royal Highness, too, for that matter. And you will stop with your incessant meddling.” 

“Meddling?” Lady Serena scoffed, trying to get back up. Amber was quick to put her foot down on Lady Serena’s dress, stopping her from moving. “Is it not your friend who’s meddling with my affairs?” 

“The Prince wasn’t interested in you. Otherwise, he would’ve already married you.” 

“Some people need some encouraging to see what they truly want.” 

“Yes. Yes, they do,” Amber agreed. “Don’t think this is the last you’ll see of me, Lady Serena.”

She dragged her foot on Lady Serena’s dress, leaving a scuff mark behind. As Lady Serena hurled profanities at her, Amber continued on her way.

Either she should made a world of difference for your future marriage, or she just made it abundantly worse. But, she was hoping that she played well enough into the crazy image she was so often painted in. 

Maybe then she could finally repay you for all the kindness you’ve shown her. 


	7. Chapter Seven: The Savior

Attending a ball now fell useless. What was the point now that the prince’s interest has waned? Word spreads quickly in Liberdon. Surely, now everybody in the kingdom knew that the prince had moved onto Lady Serena Wharton. And, it was evident enough when only the slimiest of men approached you when you made your entrance. Oh, where was Elias when you truly needed him to scare away men? 

You moved to a far corner of the ballroom, nursing your drink. You hadn’t wanted to come, but Amber had insisted. She said that you needed to show the prince what he was missing out on, and to show Lady Serena that you were not a lady to be messed with. So, you allowed Eliza to pull out your best dress and doll you up to absolute perfection. If you weren’t so distraught, you would’ve been carrying yourself with the same sort of confidence you had after your debut. But now? It was hard to tap into that same energy. 

“Excuse me, miss?” a voice came from in front of you, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You looked up. “Yes?” 

“Are you Y/N Covington?” he asked. 

“I am. And may I ask who you are?”

He gave you a charming smile, his dark eyes twinkling. “I’m Kevin Langue, Duke of Eastmoor.” 

You knew the name. When Elias was criticizing the men of Liberdon, he had mentioned the Duke of Eastmoor as being one of the few good men in all the land. Elias said he was a loud man, sure, but he was also the kind of man who looked out for everyone’s best interests. He rarely found himself in trouble. Elias once said that, if you had to marry, the Duke of Eastmoor was one of only a handful of men worthy of you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Your Grace,” you said, smiling at him. “How can I help you?” 

“My friend told me of your predicament,” he began.

“Your friend? And who might that be?”

“Lord Aryia. He learned from your friend, Lady Amber, that Lady Serena was giving you trouble.” 

You took a shuddering breath. “That’s one way to put it.” 

Kevin laughed. “Well, I have choice words for someone as…degenerate as her, but a lady such as yourself should never have to hear that sort of language.” 

“You forget who my brother is, Your Grace. I’ve heard more than a lady ever should with someone as short a temper as Elias.” 

“Fair enough,” Kevin chuckled. “Regardless, I come to you with a proposition.” 

“Oh? And what might that be?” 

He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. Well, as much of a whisper as he could manage. “The quickest way for you to win your prince back is to show him what he’s missing. And what better way than to show him you’ve moved on?” 

“I’m afraid I can’t move on so quickly, Your Grace.” 

“You don’t have to, but you can certainly pretend,” Kevin said. “And, even if that doesn’t work, the attention of a duke is still something to elevate your status. Men you are interested in will slowly but surely come crawling back.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. The gears of your brain turned. The offer wasn’t a horrible one. What did you have to lose? You already had lost the attention of the prince and most good men in the _ton_. You looked away from the Duke of Eastmoor, looking around the ballroom. You weren’t sure what you were searching for. Some sort of cosmic sign that you should follow through with this proposition. And, as luck would have it, you would see the sign you were looking for. Lady Serena, dazzling the ballroom with the sort of confidence that came from the attention of royalty, walked up to Prince Cole, who had just arrived. And, as you watched him smile down at her, you knew you had no other choice.

_Perhaps this alliance wouldn’t be so bad in the end._

“Very well. What did you have in mind, Your Grace?”

“I do believe the first dance is going to start soon.” Kevin gestured at your dance card dangling from your wrist. “May I?” 

You smiled, handing him the card and allowing him to fill in his name on the first slot. He waited with you until the waltz began. You made sure to put on a show, smiling and laughing. And Kevin did just as well with his performance, earning curious glances from the other attendees of the ball.

And when the waltz began? Oh, you had nearly as much fun as you did when Cole was the one spinning you around the ballroom. 

“Look,” Kevin said as he spun you.

You turned your head, trying to look subtle, as you followed his gaze. And what you saw made you positively giddy. As Cole danced with Lady Serena, he couldn’t take his eyes off the pair of you, his face a bright shade of red. And when he met your eyes, he grit his teeth and looked away. 

The waltz ended, and Kevin led you away from dance floor. However, he didn’t make it very far, for Cole was quick to approach the two of you.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” Cole said, “but would you mind if I stole Miss Covington away for a moment?”

Kevin smiled a kilowatt smile, and nodded. “I don’t mind at all, Your Royal Highness.” 

You bid Kevin goodbye, and followed Cole to a less crowded part of the ballroom. “What is it that you want, Your Royal Highness?” you asked.

Cole frowned. “I’ve told you that you can call me Cole.” 

“I no longer wish to call you by your name,” you said. 

His face fell, and he asked, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“Well, when a man’s interest wanes, I have to go find another,” you said. You tried to keep your composure, to show him that you no longer cared for him, just as he no longer cared for you. It was the only way you could escape this unscathed. “I _have_ to marry, Your Highness. I don’t have the luxury of putting it off until it’s convenient for me.” 

“And you’d marry the Duke of Eastmoor?” Cole asked. 

“He’s kind and respectful. He’s one of the few men my brother has had no qualms with,” you explained. But that didn’t feel like enough. So you added, “And he doesn’t run off with another woman after seeming so sure he was going to marry another.” 

“Is this about Lady Serena? She’s a friend.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff. “A friend who wishes to marry you, and a friend who will stop at nothing to do so.”

Cole avoided your gaze, looking away. Then, he slowly looked back at you, his eyes settling on your neck and the accessory you lacked. “You’re not wearing the necklace I gave you.”

“Why would I ever want to wear something given to me by a man who clearly doesn’t care about me?” you questioned, crossing your arms. “I’d sooner throw it away than wear it again. Or better yet, I’ll regift it to Lady Serena, since she seems to be the only lady you care for.” 

“You know I care about you, Y/N.” 

“I’m afraid I don’t, Your Royal Highness. You didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me you were no longer interested.” You eyed him, not bothering to hide your distaste. “And to think you call yourself a gentleman.” 

Cole began to respond, when your brother intervened. He stepped in front of you, eyeing Cole with the sort of disapproval he had for the other men who tried to court you. But now, there was a sort of dangerous look in his eyes, a sort of rage directed at the man who cast you aside. 

“Is everything alright here?” Elias asked, squaring his shoulders and glaring at the prince.

Cole ground his teeth together. “Everything’s quite alright, Covington. Your intervention is not—”

“Actually,” you said, causing Elias to turn to you. Cole stiffened, as though he expected you to rip him apart, like you all knew Elias was craving to do. “I’m not feeling quite well, brother. I would like to go home.”

Elias nodded, and you took his arm as he led you out of the ballroom. 

But, Cole grabbed at your wrist, forcing the two of you to stay in place. 

“What?” you asked, turning.

“Y/N, if you go now, you’ll be taking my heart with you.”

You mustered your harshest of glares. “Keep it. I don’t want it anymore.” 


End file.
